on the walls, a sheep and a ram to offer to the bull-god El, your father. Lift your hands to heaven and call upon his name. Make Baal come down with your sacrifice, the son of Dagon with your offering.
Then gather a multitude and march into the desert. On the seventh day you will come to Udam. And when Pabil, the king of that city, sends you a message, only ask for the maiden Huray.’ And Keret awoke and it was a dream.
“So he cleansed himself and went up to the walls. A sheep and a ram he did offer. He sacrificed to the bull El, his father. He made Baal come down with his sacrifices, the son of Dagon with his offering. He gathered a multitude; even the single men came, as did the newly-married and the sick.”
“Why did even the newly-married and sick have to come? Should they not stay behind?”
“Keret got everyone he could so that his army looked large. He wanted to intimidate Pabil rather than fight him. So when they came to Udam they besieged the city and Pabil became afraid. On the seventh day he sent a message to Keret, ‘Take silver and gold, slaves and cattle, chariots and horses. Take this peace offering, but do not besiege Udam.’
“But Keret sent a message back to Pabil, ‘What need have I of silver and gold, slaves and cattle, chariots and horses? Give me what I do not have. Give me the maiden Huray, the most gracious of your family, your firstborn daughter, whose grace is as the grace of Anath, whose beauty as the beauty of Athirat.’
“When the messengers carried these words to Pabil, he wailed. And the people of Udam moaned for Huray. But the maiden went and joined Keret. And he carried her to his palace as a wife to bear him children.”
“Did she have children?”
“Yes, seven sons and seven daughters. For Baal had blessed them.”
“So everything turned out well?”
“Yes, but one of his sons later rebelled against Keret when he had become old. So Keret cursed him.”
“But had Baal not blessed the family? Why would the son then rise against his father?” Rivkah was puzzled.
“Baal’s blessing gives fertility, but not peace. For he provides and makes things grow, but also incites strife and trouble.”
“And the maiden Huray? What happened to her?”
“She cared for her children and served Keret to the end of his days. She organized the household and ensured the guests were well fed at the dinner parties.”
“So Keret loved her?”
“She was the rightful spouse at his side. She fulfilled her duties as his wife admirably. And she gave him what he was hoping for—sons and daughters. Yes, Keret must have valued Huray.”
“Is that why a man marries a woman? Only to get children? Is it not because he loves the woman?”
“Oh, some men certainly love their wives. But that is not everything. They always have to think about continuing the family line, especially kings. And men are certainly attracted to women. But they are never satisfied.”
“What do you mean?”
“They seek more. Rich men may get a concubine. But they tire even of her. That’s why many men come to prostitutes. It makes them feel like the gods.”
Rivkah looked at Bath-Shua. She wanted to know more and yet she was agitated by what she heard.
“Like the gods?” she asked. The urge to find out was stronger.
“You know how Baal, the rider of the clouds, lies with women and beasts, mounts them like the sacred ram. You must have heard of Pidray, the daughter of Baal, a maiden so desirable, the daughter of mist. Whether they imitate Baal or seek union with his luscious daughter, men take their desires to the prostitute. With her their heavenly fantasies are enacted. She has to be for them whatever goddess they desire. Many worship the union of the heavenly spouses, whether it be Osiris and Isis, El and Athirat, or the LORD and his Asherah.”
“They do? You know?” Rivkah knew that some of the happenings during the religious festivals were hidden from the children, but what Bath-Shua told her was so new it threw her old certainties into confusion.
A frown went across Bath-Shua’s face. “I know. I am one.”
Rivkah hardly dared to ask, “What?”
“A prostitute.” Bath-Shua said nothing more. She lowered her face.
Rivkah opened her mouth but did not speak. A cold shudder went down her spine. Quietly she edged further away from Bath-Shua.”
“My father would never do that!” The challenge burst out.
“Your father is a man,” Bath-Shua replied quietly.
“But he never came to you,” Rivkah insisted.
Bath-Shua looked at her sadly. “Let’s not talk about this any more.”
“He never comes to you, does he?” Rivkah pleaded. When Bath-Shua did not answer she nearly shouted, “Does he?”
“Shh!” Bath-Shua signaled her to be quiet. “I shouldn’t have told you that much. I’m sorry.” She came closer towards Rivkah as if she wanted to comfort her. But Rivkah moved farther away. She didn’t want that woman to touch her.
Kaleb growled, but not at Bath-Shua. His attention was directed towards the lane outside. And now Rivkah could hear the footsteps. Voices carried into the little shed, though Rivkah couldn’t understand them. It didn’t sound like Hebrew. They must be Assyrians.
Kaleb became tense. His growl got louder. Rivkah held on to him, frozen in fear. Kaleb stood up and moved forward, even though Rivkah tried to hold him back. It sounded as if the men were quite close now. Suddenly Kaleb growled loudly, barked and rushed forward. He leapt over the low wall in front of the shed. Rivkah tried to stop him. She went after Kaleb and was ready to follow him over the wall. But Bath-Shua jumped onto Rivkah and wrestled her down, pressing her to the floor behind the low wall. Rivkah struggled and kicked, but Bath-Shua held her with an iron grip. She wanted to scream but Bath-Shua clasped her hand over Rivkah’s mouth. She bit Bath-Shua’s hand. Bath-Shua clearly felt the pain, but did not loosen her grip.
Outside in the lane the fight was fiercer. Rivkah could hear Kaleb barking and growling. She could hear the men shouting and screaming. What was happening out there?
* * *
Itur-Ea whirled around. He thought he’d heard a growl. There were only the three of them in this small lane near the southern wall. Suddenly it was upon him. From behind some stones darted a snarling ball of fur and fangs that sank its teeth into Itur-Ea’s arm. Itur-Ea tried to ward it off. His comrades, Arad-Nergal and Samaku, thrust their daggers into the dog as it hung onto Itur-Ea. He screamed in rage and pain. Finally the animal gave up the struggle and fell limp to the ground. Itur-Ea kicked it. “Mongrel!” Without looking any further the three of them hurried out of the lane.
* * *
The sound of the soldiers’ footsteps echoed in the lane as they hastened away and seemed to fade in the distance. Out in the lane it was eerily quiet. Rivkah no longer struggled. She just
